So where did it come from?

So, the question arises: Where did the Hep C in my liver originally come from? As I have been an IV drug user from 1972 – 1985, 1989 – 1990 and then again from 1998 – 2000 it has been commonly assumed that that is how I contracted the disease. Since learning more about it, I have found various other ways of how I could have got it. First of all I had did my first tattoo at the age of 13. We all used the same 3 needles, bound together by some string. There were 4 or 5 of us, can’t remember exactly. Then I had a blood transfusion just after my daughter’s birth in 1979. Strangely enough the hospital where this procedure was undertaken has been closed down since and all records lost. Who said German bureaucracy is one of the most efficient in this world? After that followed professional tattoos and piercings. Did I ever check that the equipment was sterile? Did I heck!!! Then of course my arrest in Turkey in 1982, the subsequent rapes and beatings in the police cells, the 11 ½ months in Turkish prison in Edirne, where razors were shared regularly as we were short of everything. After being released from there, I had to remain in Turkey as I was on bail. 9 months of sharing needles with a boyfriend and his brother followed. Then I escaped to Germany on a false passport and promptly landed in a female prison in Berlin(Frauenhaftanstalt Lehrter Straße). I was in quite a few physical fights in there, many with open wounds. My own little ‘tattoo studio’ on the beach in Syros, Greece, followed. Again the contact with blood was daily. And I had more tattoos in England after 1985. And although I was very careful not to share any syringes during my 2 relapsed here, I am not absolutely sure, that nobody has given me works, saying they were new, but were in fact used. So I think, the question “Where did I get infected” remains a mystery and I don’t think I will ever be sure. But it does make me aware, that not everybody who is a junky with Hep C has necessarily contracted it from IV drug use.

Why the blood test ...

The question obviously arises why I had the blood test done in the first place. I was working at that time as a part-time administrator for a children’s theatre group. A bunch of adults producing theatre for children that is. It was a very interesting time and apart from seeing our shows, I quite often got free tickets for performances in the area. At that time one of our productions was CLOWN by Quentin Blake and we were invited to perform at a theatre festival in Bucharest, Romania. But how to get the stage set there. Enquiries for air and train transport turned up with amounts in the thousands. As we had a company van, I suggested we could drive the set down – and volunteered to drive, too. After careful consideration this was decided to be the best option and my colleague Jo and I set off at the end of October 2005. The drive was thoroughly enjoyable and we had a really good time, singing all the way. I particularly enjoyed Transylvania, a part of Europe I had always wanted to visit. All the old Dracula stories had captivated me since childhood. And indeed, the area had something haunting and forbidding at this time of the year, lots of fog, windy roads, forests and darkness. Unfortunately we had only 1 week to get there, do a couple of performances and get back. Our actual stay in Bucharest lasted exactly 18 hours. The drive back was a lot more draining and spirits sunk to breaking point on the last leg of the journey from Dover to Bristol, but we got back in one piece and I still look back fondly on those days of freedom of the roads and meeting strange and wonderful people. Thanks Hungarian policeman, who didn’t book us in the end for not having the lights on during the day!

A week after my return I started to get bad pains in my right hand side. I went to the doctor and was prescribed some strong painkillers, which at first helped, but over days seemed to wear off or the pain was getting worse. I returned to the surgery and my GP felt my liver, which he realised was enlarged. He immediately questioned if I had travelled recently and when I mentioned Romania, he suggested that I might have contracted Hepatitis A, which is still rife there. A blood test was run … the rest is now history.

When I learned about the virus ....

On November 11th, 2005 I got the diagnosis of being HCV+. That means, I have Hepatitis C, also known as chronic Hepatitis. At first I didn’t really know what it meant, just that I was supposed to greatly reduce if not stop alcohol as to avoid any further liver damage. The nurse at the Health Centre didn’t help by saying when she gave me the results: “This a terminal illness, you know!” Of course I thought I was going to die. Preferably on the spot, there and then. About 10 people in the queue behind me had heard it. I am sure they were all thinking “Poor old cow!” Hey, less of the old, I was only 47 then.

I went home after this. Well, not straight away. I called into the adjacent pub and had a double vodka and coke. Reasoning: It was going to be my last one. Then I went home – and had a beer. Reasoning: Definitely my last one! It never was. I have to admit, to my shame, to drinking throughout the time until treatment started. But that was much, much later. For now I had to deal with the shock and with the lack of knowledge what this diagnosis entailed. Unfortunately the clinic had run out of leaflets about Hep C, but thankfully as a modern woman, I was connected to the internet at the flat and therefore to a wealth of information. I wasn’t stupid, I could find out what this meant. Regrettably the provided information on the internet is as confusing as it is plentiful. I am a woman, middle aged at that, as a result easily befuddled. At the end of the day, I still didn’t know much more. When my then partner came home from work, I told him what I had learned earlier that day. In hindsight I think I shouldn’t have done that. He almost instantly clamped up, didn’t want to talk about it and little did I know then, that this was the beginning of the end of our relationship. I somehow sensed though, that I would ultimately be alone with this, whatever was going to happen, die or live.At least one thing I had found out on the net: There is a good chance of cure for Hep C with the use of a combination therapy of Interferon and Ribavirin. I had also discovered, that there are various types of Hep C, called Genotypes. Genotypes 2 and 3 are deemed the easiest to cure, combo treatment takes 24 weeks. Genotypes 1 and 4 are more difficult, treatment is between 48 and 72 weeks. There are a couple of other Genotypes as well, but they are not very common and research into them has been slow so far. One little blip though – at this stage, I did not know my genotype. Stuck again! But I did have another blood test scheduled to make sure the first one was right. Comforting or what?